Suicide

Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he’s dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always

(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

Stevie Smith

I attended funeral about 3 months ago. A family member who killed themselves.

The dogs, frantic through the night, found him first, then his son. Just imagine.

We stood in the rain, a community of working people, heads bowed, in suits too big or too small, around a fresh grave with hot tears.

He wasn't a strange man, or a desperate man. Just a man lost in day to day banality and finally lost in his mind.

And I was angry. Not with him, with him I felt nothing but an aching pity I couldn't have reached out to him at that unGodly desolate hour and given him peace, but with the people who said "I'm not surprised."

"I'm not surprised!?" Because you saw the mental and physical deterioration that resulted in such a violent and tragic end when you could have stepped in?

"I'm not surprised" because of the situation or the work, his position or the circumstances he found himself in?

"I'm not surprised" because it's considered normal for a hard working man in a stressful and lonely position to take his own life and allow his family to find his bloody remains mixed with a muddy yard?

I'm still angry.

Then I received news a couple of days ago about a vet I taught. Dr K God bless you. He ended his life.

Also alone, in some dark place he could only find one way of escaping.

I recall him as a jolly person, always willing to participate. I don't know what happened, only that he was found alone. He was buried this morning surrounded by a huge number of people.

A few weeks ago I lectured at SEVA and was lucky enough to be invited to the evening dinner where I sat with several final year students. One lady I spoke with carried the nervousness I could only ascribe to social anxiety and the excema on her forearms and tic of trying to conceal her scratching belied something I feared may become more ugly with the exposure a young graduate is faced with from day one and which only grows with increasing responsibility.

I spoke with her for little more than 45 minutes but slept fitfully that night wondering what my duty as a fellow colleague should be, or whether my observations were aberrant and even offensive?
I've always been astounded by the trail of tragedy that follows veterinary medicine in its literal wake. Depression, alcoholism, family break ups, injury and suicide. It is so common place that it is met with the "I'm not surprised" dismissive and idiotic "the show must go on."

If anyone is reading this and is in that place. The place where your thoughts are not your own, where the next day envelopes you in fear, where the need to escape may trickle in ideas of death. We know that it hurts, that you are not alone and that at last help is there. In Vetlife, in MindMatters, in the Samaritans, in AA, in a call to a colleague or a friend, on a knock on the door of a neighbor. I only ask and beg that you never allow anyone to utter the words "I'm not surprised."

If you need to talk to someone, Vetlife Helpline is avaialble 24 hours a day. Call: 0303 040 2551 or email via the website: http://www.vetlife.org.uk

Ben Sturgeon

A reply to Booze

I am really surprised at how few responses there are to this blog. Yes, it is about alcohol, but it is also about the need we equine vets have for support and compassion from both within and outside the profession.


Thank you to the author of the blog for sharing your story, which is painful to read, and no doubt worse to be part of. I’m sure that you are a good equine vet – and certainly good enough - because you obviously care very much about your patients, clients and professional standing.


What is it that is missing from the veterinary profession that makes this is such a common story? I know others who did not manage to extricate themselves from the downward spiral and ultimately paid with their lives. Depression, loneliness, isolation and then liver failure. Sadly, far from being supported, they were actually ridiculed and left to struggle alone.


Most of us want to be the best we can be and strive to achieve this. Unfortunately in too many practices there seems to be an element of competition rather than collaboration between individual vets. I was lucky enough to realise that there were times when I needed to bounce ideas off a colleague or receive specialist advice so we developed a network of friends who had expertise in different areas and we could phone for advice at any time. So often all it takes is a 2-minute phone call in a moment of uncertainty to allow one to proceed with confidence. Caring and sharing with a few moments of one’s time . . .


Things don’t always go perfectly and our work is never over as there is always the next difficult case. Thankfully the profession is recognising the importance of looking after mental health with its increasing programme of ‘mindfulness’. But awareness and empathy have to come from within practices. Could it be that with the corporate ‘takeover’ vets will have time to look after each other? Perhaps the remaining independent practices will consider this a priority. Thirty four years in equine practice has been a privilege and at the age of 60 I am not planning to retire. If I had my time again I would not change my career path but it would have been nice to have more support at times along the way.

Sue Devereux